


25 Days ('Til He's Mine)

by TeaAndKittens



Series: Message Received [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Advent Tree, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, family traditions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-02 21:38:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8684245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaAndKittens/pseuds/TeaAndKittens
Summary: Standing in the middle of a Target late in November, Lance has a crisis about his shiny new relationship with Keith.  He wants to bring him into a family tradition, because even though it's only been three months Lance is sold on the idea of spending the rest of his Christmases with Keith, but he has no idea how his boyfriend will react.  Or if he'll even understand what any of this means to Lance.
He goes for it anyway.  Now he's got 25 days to convince Keith that the rest of their days should be spent together.
Or: the boys' first Christmas as a couple set in my Message Received verse.





	1. Day -2: Target is Not the Place for a Crisis

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wanted to do a thing, and I’m not sure how it will work out, but here goes anyway. Obviously, this is the second fic in a series. Reading the first fic might help, but it probably isn’t necessary to follow along. Anyway, the premise of this fic is that Lance gets Keith an advent tree and puts notes and tiny gifts behind each day’s door. My plan is to update this in real time on my [my tumblr](http://teaandspacekittens.tumblr.com/), so I’m posting Keith getting his “gift” from Lance every day. As for AO3, I’m posting the first part now and I’ll do the whole thing after it’s done - but the “real time” updates will only happen on my tumblr for convenience reasons, so following there is your best bet if you want immediate updates. 
> 
> This has really become a reader interactive project for me, so if you have thoughts/ideas/suggestions you want to share, please feel free to message them to me and I’ll try to work them into the story! Ok, I hope you guys enjoy. 
> 
> A note on the warnings/rating: depending on how this goes for me, I may or may not include some smut and other things. Be aware that both the rating may go up and additional warnings may appear in the future. I will try to point out anything potentially problematic in the notes.

The damn trees were mocking him.

 

Embarrassed by the level to which this affected him, Lance stopped in the middle of the shelves and stared, grimace pulling at his lips.  He’d already managed to put the idea out of his mind after passing the aisle where they were located twice, but now they were following him, like sentient little demons determined to sow seeds of doubt in Lance’s happiness via brightly colored wooden evergreens.  Lance was all the way on the  _ other side of the store _ and here was another fucking advent tree just  _ daring  _ him to take it home and convince Keith that it was as innocuous as it looked and definitely not the relationship landmine it  _ actually _ was.  Someone had obviously picked this one up and then changed their mind and put it back on a different shelf to torment him - probably someone else only three months into the most backward and confusing relationship with the most infuriatingly hard to read yet utterly adorable man ever.  Or Lance could be projecting.

 

He stopped and picked up the tree to look it over.  It was sort of cute in that “it looks like a third grader made it” way, but mostly it was just horrifyingly gaudy.  Lance had been in love with it instantly; he was always falling for lovable hot messes.  (He could just be projecting again.)  But it was sort of great because this was the kind of advent tree where the squares were big enough to actually fit things in.  Lance remembered the year his oldest brother accidentally broke his and their mom bought an emergency tree with really tiny boxes.  She hadn’t been able to fit her famous candy-cane chocolate balls inside.  Even though she replaced it with a better version when doing her after-Christmas shopping, all of the kids had been way more careful with their trees after that.

 

Lance turned the wooden thing over in his hands, checking out the construction.  If he did this, and who was he fucking kidding, he knew himself well enough to know he was going to do this, then he’d need one that would last.  It would (hopefully) have to survive years of being put away and then taken back out and shuffled between kitchen tables and mantles and being knocked over a few times.  Maybe even survive a few over-eager maulings from kids.  He snorted and shook his head at the direction of his thoughts.  Like always he was getting ahead of himself.  He and Keith may have been fucking for a while now, but they’d only been together for a little over three months.  Thinking about it like that, the whole idea of sharing this with his boyfriend seemed too hasty.

 

Advent trees had been a tradition in Lance’s family for generations.  A tree of their own was always one of the gifts each child received for their first Christmas.  Lance remembered being a toddler and bouncing around excitedly over the idea of toys and candy every day for almost a whole month.  He remembered being a sullen pre-teen, awkward and insecure and wanting to hate the world but incapable of it with the taste of his mother’s baking on his tongue.  He remembered being an even more awkward teen and the first Christmas after he’d come out as gay and coming down the stairs on December 1st and his advent tree had been repainted so that all the doors were rainbow colored.  That year the supportive messages inside hadn’t just been from his parents but all his siblings.  He remembered his first year in college, coming home for the winter break feeling homesick and out of his depth and about ready to give up.  When he got back to the dorm, the encouraging notes from his parents about how proud of him they were had been carefully taped to the front of all his notebooks and binders so he never forgot what he was working so hard for.

 

Taking a deep breath, Lance ran his thumb over the large red “1” on the top door.  He felt stupid having a relationship crisis standing in the middle of a Target and holding a garishly painted decoration, but there were very real fears at work here.  Truthfully, Keith probably wouldn’t react poorly to the silly little thing.  He’d probably take it in stride the way he did with all the goofy “couple” things Lance demanded they do.  But this was more than just a couples thing - this was a  _ family  _ thing.  Keith probably wouldn’t get it, but Lance doing this, wanting to invite him into this tradition meant he was essentially inviting him into his family.  The fact that he had the damn thing in his hands right now meant he  _ already  _ thought of Keith that way.  How crushing would it be if Keith didn’t get that and brushed the importance of it off?  How devastating would it be if he  _ did  _ get it and rejected the idea of the relationship being that serious already?  Lance honestly didn’t know what would be worse.

 

With a sigh, he set the tree carefully in his basket.  His heart was pounding in his chest and he felt way too fucked up for just making a purchase, but this was so huge.  There was a serious possibility that Lance was going to jump, take this flying leap of faith - and come crashing back to earth painfully.  But he hadn’t gotten anywhere with Keith so far without taking a few risks, so he knew he had to do this.  Besides, he was too far gone on that boy not to  _ want  _ this anyway.  He’d put a tiny little piece of his heart behind each one of those doors and he’d just have to hope Keith would take care of each one long enough to put them back together at the end.

 

Another panicked thought occurred to him and he turned his basket around and hurriedly headed back to the holiday aisle to elbow soccer moms out of the way for the good candy.  Because  _ holy fuck  _ it was November 28th already.  He only had three days to fill this tree up with all the things he wasn’t sure if he wanted to Keith to understand or not.  Stupid, impossible relationship.  Stupid, impossible boyfriend.  Lance never thought to question why he couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of his shopping trip. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I lied. I said I wouldn't update until it was done, but here you guys go. A couple more days of Christmas fluff

**Day -1:**

 

Lance looked around at his poor kitchen.  It looked like a craft store had exploded all over it.  He stared at the pitiful lump of drying glue and glitter dismally.  He’d been trying to do a reindeer paperweight for Keith’s desk.  It was not a success.  He was starting to get a little lost in the chaos of his brain now, his grip on the narrative slipping.  At this rate he’d never get anything done for Keith’s tree.  It was time to call in reinforcements.  He grabbed his phone off the counter and dialed absently while trying to scrape a smear of puff-paint off the table with his thumbnail.  He didn’t even remember  _ buying  _ puff-paint.

 

There was no greeting, his mom was speaking rapid-fire and fully conversational as soon as the call connected.  “If this call requires me to spend any more time on my feet or in front of the stove than I already am, then call again after the new year.”

 

He opened his mouth to respond with something witty, but just the sound of her voice was enough to have him feeling a little shaky, so what came out instead was, “Mama.”  Lance knew he should be embarrassed about the way his voice cracked at the end; he couldn’t find it in himself to care.  He’d let himself get so worked up and anxious over this tree thing with Keith and the thought that it may define their relationship more clearly at the end of it.  And that he may not like the lines it drew.  Nobody but his mom would be capable of talking him down right now and he was man enough to admit it.

 

A hissed inhale was the only answer for several seconds; Lance only ever called her Mama when he was upset.  His mother would of course hear the need for comfort in just that one word.  “Lance?” she finally prompted when it was clear Lance wouldn’t elaborate on his own.

 

Lance let out a breath slowly through his nose.  This song and dance was as familiar to Lance as breathing.  For as long as he could remember he’d always run to his mother first anytime he had a problem and then conveniently remember he hated to talk about his feelings and awkwardly try to talk around whatever was bothering him.  She’d always have to pry his thoughts out of him one by one.  He smiled, pleased she could sense the weight of this conversation without him having to spell it out and was letting him settle into this routine at his own pace.  His mom was great like that.  “Can I have the recipe for your candy-cane chocolate balls?”

 

She clucked her tongue at him in mild reproach.  Just because she was indulgent of his reluctance didn’t mean she wouldn’t call him on it.  “If you tell me who you’re making them for.”

 

Busted.  Lance sank down in a chair and fidgeted with some scraps of paper he’d littered on the tabletop during some attempt at some crafty thing or another.  “Why do I have to be making them for somebody.”  He suddenly felt fifteen again, trying to figure out how to convince her that it was his “friend” who liked boys better than girls when he asked if she was okay with that.  He had the feeling she’d be able to make him feel that way no matter how old he got.

 

His mother scoffed.  “You and I both know you didn’t just call for the recipe.  Out with it.”

 

She was right, of course.  Lance sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, knowing that he wouldn’t get out of telling her no matter what he tried.  His mother could verbally outmaneuver anybody.  “I bought an advent tree for Keith.”  He hated how flat and desolate his voice sounded.  He’d hated that he’d made this such a big deal.

 

A noncommittal hum could only barely be heard over the sounds of pots being rattled about on the other end of the line.  “Is that the boy you’ve been hiding away from us for months?”

 

Exasperated, Lance squawked out a noise of protest.  “Ma, I told you, I’ll bring him by when I think he can handle it.”  He rolled his eyes.  “And when I can handle the humiliation.”  More like when he was sure their relationship could handle it.  What the hell would he do if he invited Keith to family dinner and he said he wasn’t ready for the meet the parents thing yet?  Were they even ready for that?  Fuck, what the hell were they even doing?  Lance had no idea when this had all gotten to be such a mess.  Probably around the same time he’d become such a mess over Keith.

 

The sound of running water on his mother’s end was clear through the line.  “You bought him a tree.”  It didn’t sound like a question, but it also didn’t sound like an accusation despite her obviously being aware of what that meant to Lance.

 

Having nothing to lessen the impact of that, Lance tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling.  It did not provide him with any hidden pearls of wisdom.  “I did.”  And the truth was, he’d really fucking  _ wanted  _ to.  Lance was a gestures guy - big ones, small ones, anything in between - he liked  _ doing things  _ for the people he cared about.  He wanted so badly to finally be allowed to do something to show Keith how much he cared, for it to not scare him off and fuck them up when he did.

 

His mother hummed again.  “I didn’t think it was that serious between you.”

 

Head still leaned back, Lance closed his eyes and let the words just pour out, a river of twisted, noxious thoughts that tore at his confidence.  “I don’t know that it is, not yet, or I’m not sure.  I mean, I know what I want, but I’ve got no idea what he wants, and I just don’t know what to do.  I can’t read him at all.  I never know what he’s thinking or how he’s feeling except when we argue.  He can be so  _ sweet  _ sometimes and so distant at others.  He never asks me for anything.  I don’t know what he wants from me.  Ma, I don’t think I know how to do this.  You know i don’t do things half-way.”

 

His mother was quiet for a few moments, allowing his words and his fears to just  _ be _ without interpretation from her.  “You bought him a tree, yes?”

 

Lance sighed, resigned to the stupidity of it.  “I did.”  He had, and he wasn’t going to back away from it now.  He was going to see this giant, ill-advised grand gesture through to the end, no matter how Keith reacted.  He was so tired of holding back with him.  He wasn’t even sure if he  _ could  _ anymore.

 

“So I don’t have to ask what it is that you want.”  She paused for a moment.  “Tell me this: what’s the thing that makes you so unsure of what he wants?”

 

Lance tipped his head forward again and tapped out a beat with his fingertips on his thigh, oddly nervous.  He hoped it made sense when he said it out loud, hoped he didn’t sound quite as romantically inept as he actually was.  “This being official thing, it’s still really new.  And we went about it all backwards.”  He tried to leave it there, to not go into more detail.

 

She didn’t let him off the hook with just that.  “How so?”

 

Unsurprised, Lance laughed.  “We work together, and at first we couldn’t stand each other.  Then we had a really casual thing.  And then we decided to try dating.  It’s only been three months since we decided we wanted to make a go at an actual relationship.”  He knew she was smart enough to read between those lines, and honestly he didn’t think she’d care they slept together before they were dating.  It’s just that Lance felt like there were certain words he should never have to say to his mom and “fuckbuddies” would always,  _ always _ be on that list.

 

“Mmm.  That sounds pretty normal - if light on the communication - to me.”

 

Hearing the subtle teasing in her tone, Lance grinned.  “Yeah, yeah, you’ve seen it all before.  If I had as many years on me, I’d be as wise as you too.”

 

She clucked her tongue at him in mock offense.  “I can hang up at any time and leave you with the choice of calling your sisters or your Abuela.”

 

All the blood drained out of his face.  Lance knew she wasn’t serious, but still - no.  “Right, so light on communication, makes sense.  Please go on,” he deferred with over exaggerated politeness. 

 

His mom chuckled warmly.  “Brat.”  She had a particular way of saying that word - well worn in with both fondness and frustration - that sounded so much like home and childhood to Lance.

 

Bolstered by the repartee, Lance preened even though there was no one there to see him.  “It’s why I’m your favorite.”

 

“Hn.”  There were a series of bangs and and indistinct rustling in the background before she went on.  “This boy sounds like he’s as stubborn as you.”

 

Lance snickered, deeply amused.  “That’s putting it mildly.”

 

His mother laughed, genuinely delighted.  “God have mercy on you, then.”

 

“Right?”  Lance smiled stupidly.  The implication that he’d need mercy if he spent the rest of his life with someone just as stubborn as he was didn’t sound hellish, it sounded kind of wonderful.  Good Christ, he was gone as fuck on this idiot.

 

His mother took a deep breath and then got serious again.  “So what you’re telling me is that you like this boy and you don’t know how to tell him, so you decided to include him in one of our family traditions, one that he almost certainly won’t understand the magnitude of, and you plan to leave him in the dark about, so that you can make some sort of romantic overture on a daily basis in the hopes that within twenty-five days you can convince him to either reveal his feelings for you or agree to some deeper commitment, hopefully both, all because you’re too afraid to just say any of this outright?”

 

Lance winced.  “Yes?” he hazarded.  It sounded so bad when she laid it out like that.

 

“Okay then, I’m emailing the recipe now.  Get a pen and paper, you’ll want to take notes.”

 

So ridiculously, stupidly grateful, Lance let out the breath he’d been unconsciously holding on a shaky sigh.  “You’re the best, Ma,” he whispered fervently.

 

“I know.  Now, remember, Mondays are great days to leave encouraging notes, because no one likes Mondays.  Fridays and Saturdays are usually the best for romance since that when the recipient can act on it…”

 

Lance listened as she continued on, making notes here or there when he felt like it, but mostly just soaking in the feeling of love and support he could sense in every word.  Maybe this wouldn’t turn out to be a raging dumpster fire after all.

 

**Day 0:**

 

The door to Lance’s apartment shut and Keith immediately had Lance backed up against it.  He was quick to follow him bodily, pressing them together from chest to thigh and nosing beneath Lance’s jaw to get at that spot on Lance’s neck that drove him crazy with his teeth with an urgency that was frankly kind of flattering.

 

Arousal burned through Lance at the contact and the less than gentle treatment.  He let out a shaky little groan and his hands instinctively went to Keith’s hips to both steady himself and draw him closer.  He’d already tilted his head up to give Keith better access, ready to lose himself in the heady sensations being lavished upon him, before he remembered that he had something to take care of before they fell into bed together.  Somewhat reluctantly, he used his hold on Keith’s hips to push his boyfriend back a little.  “Hey, wait.”

 

Leaning back a little, Keith frowned at him.  “Why?”  The look on his face couldn’t quite be called a pout, but it was close enough that it should probably count.

 

Ridiculously charmed, Lance couldn’t help himself; he leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to the downturned corner of Keith’s mouth.  “I’ve got something for you.”  Probably not the best phrasing when they were still flush against each other, but oh well.

 

Keith smirked, slow and filthy.  “Yeah?  Me too.”  He rolled his hips to press his stiffening dick against Lance’s thigh in case it hadn’t been clear what he’d meant.

 

Lance giggled.  “No you pervert, I’m serious.”  He moved his hands up to Keith’s chest to push him back a little more.  He’d definitely lose his train of thought if Keith kept doing that.

 

Keith went with an annoyed huff.  “Fine.”  he sounded so adorably disgruntled about it.

 

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Lance stepped away from the door and walked over to his table where The Tree sat in all its glory.  “Tada!” he chirped nervously.  He had no idea how he could expect Keith to react and it was driving him crazy.  Good thing he hadn’t decided to buy this thing more than two days ago despite the rush he’d been in since - he wouldn’t have survived the wait.

 

A little wrinkle appeared between Keith’s brows.  He looked from the tree, to Lance, then back to the tree, confusion plain.  “What is it?”

 

Oh boy.  Lance rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.  “Uh, it’s an advent tree.”  This was definitely not the route he wanted this conversation to go.  He didn’t want Keith to start asking for  _ explanations. _  Why couldn’t his absurdly contrary and difficult boyfriend just go with the flow for once?  Okay, so the idea was laughable, but still.

 

Keith nodded looking like that had cleared up nothing for him.  “Okay.”  He looked down at the tree again.

 

Lance felt awkward just standing there facing down Keith’s bafflement, so he leaned a hip against the side of the table and set a tentative hand on the top curve of the tree.  “The numbers are dates.  In December.  You open a door every day.”

 

Keith just looked at Lance for a long moment.  “Why?”

 

More amused than nervous now, Lance smiled.  “Because I put stuff inside.”

 

Keith raised an eyebrow.  “What kind of stuff?”

 

A surge of acute self-consciousness built in lance’s stomach.  He shrugged, trying to look casual.  “Notes, little gifts, candy, whatever.”

 

Long seconds passed where Keith did nothing but blink slowly at Lance.  He ducked his head and stared at the tree again.  “I feel like you want me to say something here, but I don’t know what.  Is this like a thing?  Because I’ve never done this before.  Fuck, were you expecting me to do this for you?”  He looked up at Lance, panic clear on his face.

 

Startled, Lance laughed.  “No, I’m not expecting you to do this for me.”  He severed eye contact, looking down to watch himself trace a lopsided painted snowman with his fingertip.  Something like embarrassment warbled in the hollow of his chest and it made him feel a little broken open and vulnerable.  “This is just something my family does, it’s a tradition I like a lot and I saw this tree and thought of you.”  Jesus, why in the  _ fuck  _ had he thought this was a good idea?

 

Clearly not picking up on Lance’s anxiety, Keith snorted.  “I don’t know whether to be flattered or horrified, Lance.  That thing is fucking ugly.”

 

The jab was enough to stop him from feeling so off balance.  Lance grinned.  “I know.  But it’s also cute in the same way your mullet works for you.”

 

Keith pouted.  “Dick.  You dig my mullet.”

 

Glad Keith hadn’t turned this into more of a  _ thing  _ Lance pushed away from the table and stepped closer into Keith’s space, eager to pick back up where they’d left off earlier.  “Damn right I do.”

 

“Wait.”  Keith took a step back to put the brakes on.  

 

Feeling the need to push a little, Lance smirked.  “Oh how the tables have turned.”

 

Ignoring that entirely, Keith shot him a considering look.  “If I’m supposed to open one every day, that means I’ve got to be at your place every day, at least at some point.  Was that your plan all along?”

 

“Uh.”  Lance grinned sheepishly.  “Well I actually hadn’t thought about that, so it’s less a nefarious scheme and more an unexpected bonus.”

 

Looking absolutely delighted, Keith grinned and snagged the end of Lance’s tie in his fist, using it to pull him closer.  With their lips just a breath apart, he whispered, “I can live with that arrangement.”

 

“Good,” was all Lance managed to get out before Keith was kissing the air from his lungs.

 

**Day 1:**

 

Sunlight slanted through the windows of Lance’s apartment falling perfectly over Keith’s half-naked form, leaving his skin glowing, hair shining, and the tips of his eyelashes sparkling as the rays caught them.  He was stunning standing in the middle of the kitchen in just his boxers and socks, but Keith was always gorgeous.  Lance was kidding himself if he thought he could make himself believe that the way he was studying the play of light on that well-loved body was for any reason other than not wanting to see his reaction when he saw what was behind the first door on the tree.

 

Looking cautiously eager, Keith opened the little wooden door and quickly pulled out the two items inside.

 

The “gift” was innocuous enough - just a tiny candy cane - and Lance smiled when Keith popped it into his mouth immediately.  No, it was the note that set a riot of butterflies with razor-blade wings loose in his stomach.  He knew exactly what it said:  _ I can’t wait to spend our first Christmas together.  24 days and counting now! _  He just had no idea what Keith would make of it and the wait was  _ destroying  _ him.

 

Keith carefully unfolded the bright red square of paper and read the message.  When he finished, he looked up at Lance with a faintly confused smile.  “Why?  Do you have something special planned?”

 

Still a little too self-conscious Lance returned the smile and shrugged.  “Not particularly.”  Although he should have known that his crazy boyfriend’s first instinct would be to question Lance’s motivations.

 

The smile dropped off of Keith’s face abruptly.  “Do you think I do?”

 

Lance barked out a surprised laugh.  “Stop panicking.  I’m not putting any expectations on you.”

 

Still adorably confused, Keith frowned.  “So then what’s going to make this Christmas so special?”  Before Lance could answer, he was shaking his head and waving a dismissive hand through the air.  “Sorry, fuck.  I forget Christmas is a big thing for people with actual families.”

 

The bottom dropped out of Lance’s stomach and he could feel his face crumple into some terrible expression of grief.  “Keith…”

 

At Lance’s reaction, Keith flinched and looked stricken.  “No, shit.  Don’t look at me like that.”  He moved closer to and rubbed his palms up and down Lance’s arms comfortingly.  “Just - look, Christmas was never really a big deal for me, but you’re kind of making me want it to be, now.  So explain it to me.  Tell me why you can’t wait for Christmas this year.  With me.”

 

Lance bit his lip and dared to make eye contact with Keith.  “Because it’s going to be our first.”  He stopped and took a deep breath, tipping forward to rest his forehead against Keith’s collarbone..  “And I’m kinda hoping that it’s just the first of many.”  He shut his eyes and continued, going for broke.  “And that maybe one by one, year after year, between me and my mom, we can turn you into the kind of guy who thinks Christmas is a big deal.”

 

Keith sighed long and easy like a contented cat and pressed his cheek against Lance’s temple.  “I can maybe get on board with that.”

 

“Yeah?” Lance asked.  He still didn’t have the guts to look up at Keith’s face.

 

“Yeah.”  Keith cupped his hands around Lance’s face and gently urged him to tilt his head up.  He only continued once eye contact had been reestablished.  “But you know what would help convince me?”

 

Lance smiled shyly.  “What?”

 

Keith smirked, face melting into something mischievous and playful.  “Blowjobs.  Lots and lots of blowjobs.”

 

Relieved the Keith seemed to like the idea of spending more Christmases with him, Lance laughed and fell easily into the usual rhythm of their banter.  “I don’t think those will fit in the tree, Keith.”

 

Keith pouted; it was unfair how good a look it was for him.  “Sounds like you need a bigger tree then.”

 

The direction of this negotiation was starting to grow on him and Lance grinned.  “Or maybe just a boyfriend willing to exchange breakfast duty for oral.”

 

Keith feigned a thoughtful look.  “I know where you might find one of those.”

 

Lance hummed.  “Yeah?”  He folded himself gracefully onto his knees in a practiced motion.  

 

“Mmm,” was all Keith got out in response.

 

“I want bacon.”  He hooked his fingers under the waistband of Keith’s boxers and looked up at Keith through his eyelashes.  “And you in a santa hat at work at least once this December.”

 

Keith frowned like he was thinking it over diligently.  “Your mouth on my cock every morning until Christmas?”

 

“Yep.”  He popped the “p” extra emphatically.  Truly this was a win/win for Lance.  It’s not like getting the chance to start every morning with his stupidly sexy boyfriend’s perfect fucking prick between his lips was a hardship.

 

“Deal.”  

 

Utterly pleased with how this had all gone down, and with life in general, Lance peeled Keith’s boxers down his thighs, revealing Keith’s thickening cock.

 

Keith threaded his hands into Lance’s hair and let out a long breath.  “Fuck.  I’m starting to get really into Christmas already.”

 

**Day 2:**

 

Keith thoughtfully let Lance recover after coming his damn brains out for all of about five seconds before he rolled over and pressed a kiss to his forehead.  “Mmm.  What do you want for breakfast this morning?”

 

Unable to do thoughts at the present moment, Lance groaned and flopped on his back, offering up the first food item that surfaced through the buzzing white noise such a spectacular orgasm had created in his brain.  “French toast.”  If a man couldn’t eat french toast after coming apart on nothing but four of his boyfriend’s fingers then there wasn’t ever an appropriate time for french toast in his expert opinion.  Although Keith probably wouldn’t be up to going to that much trouble after the way he’d just exerted himself.

 

“Yeah, okay.”  Keith sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

 

Lance raised both eyebrows in disbelief.  “Really?”  He’d kind of wanted it, but he hadn’t expected Keith to actually be willing to make it for him.  There were times when it still surprised Lance just how  _ sweet _ he could be.

 

Keith shrugged like it was nothing.  “Sure, why not.”

 

“Awesome,” Lance whispered fervently.  He rolled over and hugged the nearest pillow to his chest, shutting his eyes and snuggling into it with a happy sigh.  The woodsy scent of Keith’s shampoo filled Lance’s nose and honestly he couldn’t imagine feeling more content.  He lingered in the warm haze of afterglow, his entire body humming with a gentle satisfaction.

 

Still sitting on the edge of the mattress, Keith hesitated, clearly not wanting to leave the bed yet.  “You gonna come with me to do the thing?”

 

It took Lance a minute to realize he meant the advent tree.  His brain was still coming online and was mostly just making staticy noises at him.  He cracked an eye open to look at Keith.  “Tired,” he whined pitifully.

 

Unsympathetic to his plight, Keith huffed.  “Lazy, more like.”

 

An effervescent giddiness frothed up in Lance’s chest, bubbles of pure joy popping somewhere in the vicinity of his heart making him feel light and floaty.  He shut his eye again and pressed his smile into the pillow.  “I was up late last night.”  He didn’t know why their playful back and forth worked him up just as much as all of the casually thoughtful gestures Keith performed.

 

A sly little laugh rumbled at him from Keith’s direction.  “I remember you coming first, so technically I was  _ up  _ later than you.”

 

Seriously?  What even.  Lance groaned.  “It’s too fucking early for your terrible puns.”  He wiggled down the bed, trying to slide more of himself under the blankets.  Now that his skin wasn’t so flushed with arousal and exertion he was starting to notice the chill of the winter air.

 

Keith finally levered himself out of the bed, shaking the mattress a little.  “Judging by the number of things you call terrible that you actually secretly love, I don’t that word means what you think it means.”

 

Lance groaned again.  “God, just go make me breakfast.”  Sleep was a temptation that beckoned with the sweetest of enticing promises.

 

“Sure thing your highness, you just lay there and rest, Princess.”  His tone was mocking, but his hands were gentle when he grabbed the edge of the blanket and tucked it more firmly around Lance.

 

Grateful, Lance pressed a kiss to whatever part of Keith’s arm it was he could feel next to his face without opening his eyes to look.  It didn’t matter anyway; there was no part of Keith’s anatomy that Lance wouldn’t happily shower with adoration at the slightest provocation.  “Way ahead of you.”  In fact, he was already dozing off by the time he heard Keith chuckle and exit the bedroom.

 

Some unknown minutes later, Lance drifted pleasantly back into the land of the living, lured by the scent of coffee and Keith’s fingers stroking softly through his hair.

 

“Wake up, Princess.  Breakfast is ready,” Keith coaxed in a hushed tone.  This time the nickname didn’t sound like a tease, too fond for that, almost crossing the line into reverent.

 

Less opposed to the idea of waking for good now that food had been introduced to the equation, Lance pried his eyes open and spotted the honest to god tray Keith was holding to serve him breakfast in bed.  He pushed himself up to sitting and moved his arms out of the way so Keith could set it down across his lap.  “That looks really good,” he said instead of “marry me.”  He applauded himself for managing the truly heroic amount of restraint that required so soon after waking up.

 

“Thanks.”  Unexpectedly shy at the compliment, Keith looked away and busied himself with grabbing the coffee mug he’d put on the nightstand instead of leaving it on Lance’s tray.  “Here,” he mumbled, pushing the cup at him.

 

Lance wrapped both hands around the warm mug and breathed in the aromatic steam.  “Fuck yeah.”

 

Keith laughed softly but didn’t comment.  He had no right to judge the way Lance communed with his coffee every morning, not with the way Lance sometimes felt that espresso shots were the other woman in their relationship.

 

After a few careful sips, Lance set the mug on the tray and looked up at Keith, who was still hovering by the side of the bed.  “Keith, am I hallucinating or did you also put your advent tree on my breakfast tray?”  He’d almost forgotten about it in his quest for more sleep and the desire to preserve the cottony pleasure he’d been blanketed in post-orgasm.

 

Keith sat on the edge of the bed, near Lance’s hip.  He tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear and didn’t look up.  “I didn’t want to do it without you,” he mumbled like he didn’t want to admit it.

 

Lance grinned so widely his face hurt.  “You are so fucking adorable sometimes I don’t know what to do with myself.”  More accurately, he didn’t know what to do with all the emotions that blew up all over his brain when he thought about Keith actually being into the advent tree thing.  Especially already.  He’d expected indulgent tolerance at best.

 

The tips of Keith’s ears turned pink and he ducked his head even farther so his hair covered most of his face.  “‘M not adorable.  I’m manly, very manly.”

 

A bright burst of  _ love  _ for this crazy, contradictory, beautiful man in his bed went off deep in Lance’s gut and the only thing he could do about it was tilt forward and peck a quick kiss on the tip of Keith’s nose.  “Of course.  The epitome of masculinity you are,” he soothed.

 

Appearing less embarrassed, Keith smirked at him, mischievous anticipation lurking at the edges of the expression.  “Every princess deserves a Prince Charming.”

 

So, it looked like “Princess” was going to become a regular thing.  Lance rolled his eyes; it didn’t actually bother him, but he wasn’t about to just let it go.  That wasn’t the way he and Keith functioned and they both liked it that way.  “Think you can be charming more over in that area so I can get at my breakfast?” he asked waving a hand at the other side of the bed.

 

“Hn.  I’m charming everywhere I go,” Keith shot back, but he also stood, grabbed the advent tree and walked around to the other side of the bed to set the tree on “his” nightstand.

 

“I know,” Lance answered sincerely.  Then he tucked into the french toast.  Which was a goddamned  _ religious experience. _  He moaned obscenely around his mouthful.  Motherfucker.  Had Keith always been this good of a cook?  And more importantly, if so, how had he not taken advantage of that before now? 

 

Plainly amused, Keith raised an eyebrow at him.  “Good?”

 

Lance nodded vigorously and swallowed.  “If you weren’t my boyfriend, i.e. the person regularly giving me orgasms, I’d say this is better than sex.  But since you  _ are _ the provider of frequent orgasms, and I have a feeling I’ll want said orgasms to continue at their current or an increased rate once this heavenly plate is no longer in front of me, I’ll just say it’s as good as sex.”

 

“Idiot,” Keith answered longsufferingly, but he clearly wasn’t seriously put out because he let them lapse into a comfortable silence so Lance could eat.

 

After a few minutes, Lance tore himself away from his quest to devour every last crumb on his plate long enough to ask, “You not having any?”

 

Keith shook his head like he was shaking off a daze.  “I snacked while I was cooking.”  He reached out and fiddled with the tiny snowflake-shaped handle on the door labeled “2” aimlessly.  “So, I’m gonna-”

 

Lance shrugged and went back to eating intently.  “Knock yourself out man.”  He actually wasn’t anxious about today’s gift.  It wasn’t nearly as emotionally charged as yesterday’s and that had gone over fine, so today should be a breeze comparatively.  His heart rate wasn’t even slightly elevated at the prospect of Keith opening another door on the tree.

 

Keith opened the door and took out the contents just as carefully as he had the day before.  He studied the two tickets on top first.  When he realized what they were he looked up at Lance sharply.  “Lance…” he breathed out.  He looked absolutely  _ devastated  _ by the strength of his reaction to them.

 

Aaaand  _ now  _ Lance was self-conscious about it.  Maybe buying tickets to the new UFO museum that had just opened when they’d only talked about Keith’s obsession with aliens  _ once _ , months before they’d even started sleeping together, was a more intimate gift than Lance had originally thought.  Well, fuck.  He shrugged, playing it off like he hadn’t jealously hoarded that knowledge, filing it away and at the time unaware he was doing so because he wanted to know everything there was to know about his good-looking but infuriating coworker.  “It seemed like a very ‘you’ thing to do.  I thought maybe we could go this weekend.”  He’d chosen this for a “Friday door” remembering his mom’s excellent advice.

 

Still looking totally blown away, Keith nodded as if on autopilot.  “Yeah.  Sounds good.”  He set the tickets down next to the tree slowly, like he didn’t want to let them go.  He turned his attention to the note Lance had included like he thought that would provide a break from the heaviness of his emotions.  

 

Well, “note” wasn’t quite the right word.  Lance squirmed a little, knowing that what he’d put with the tickets might provoke as strong a reaction as they had based on recent evidence.  Instead of writing something he had opted to draw a quick doodle featuring his best artistic interpretation of the two of them - Keith with an over exaggerated mullet and Lance with a too big smile.  The perspective was a full body shot from the back so the fact their hands were intertwined between them could be seen.  Keith was facing forward, meant to be looking at the little UFO, complete with a tiny alien inside, hovering above their heads.  Lance was looking at Keith.  Keith wore a shirt that said “I Believe,” while Lance’s coordinating one read, “He Believes.  I’m Just Here for the View.”

 

“Oh,” Keith managed.  The word sounded punched out of him.  He studied the drawing for a long moment, his thumb tracing over it delicately.  When he finally looked up at Lance, his eyes were suspiciously damp.

 

That was normally the sort of thing Lance would have gently teased him for, but his throat was feeling a little too tight to comment at the moment.

 

***

  
Later that day, when Lance swung by Keith’s desk to grab him for lunch he noticed his drawing had been taped to the bottom of Keith’s monitor.  He’d also made a small addition - a tiny little heart was inked over Keith’s head like a thought bubble.  His boyfriend wasn’t currently sitting at his desk, so Lance grabbed the nearest pen and added a heart above his own head too.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a few more days. I'm currently a little behind with this story, but I hope to catch up this week/weekend.

**Day 1 Bonus:**

 

“Hey Ma,”

 

“How did it go?”

 

“Good, I think.”

 

“You think?”

 

“I’m pretty sure I’m overwhelming him.  His parents died when he was really young and he grew up in the foster system.  He told me he’s never had anyone make Christmas a big deal with him.”

 

“You think he’s freaked out by how into it you are?”

 

“Hah.  I think his over-competitive ass is panicking because our family already have all these traditions and so Christmas is already a big deal for me, but he doesn’t have anything like that to bring to the table and now he’s just got to wing it, and I’m spending 25 days building up to something and he’s losing his mind trying to figure out how to keep up come Christmas day.”

 

“He does know that’s not a fair comparison, right?”

 

“I’ll let you answer that question for yourself when you meet him.”

 

“So you make sure he knows it’s not a competition.  You’re not there to fight him, you’re there to show him how it’s done.”

 

“How are you so good at this?”

 

“You and your sisters provided plenty opportunities to practice managing stubborn people you care about.”

 

“Fair enough.  Thanks Mom.”

 

“Always.  Any time you need me.  I love you.”

 

“Love you too.”

 

**Day 3:**

It was seriously great to know he had a stupid gift in the tree today.  No stress and anxiety for him, no chance of an unexpected emotional reaction from Keith.  Lance watched as Keith opened the door, a grin based purely on anticipation stretching over his lips.  This was going to be good.  He was glad he’d had the foresight to anticipate he might want a break from the heavier stuff by now.

There was only one thing inside today, a compressed paper snowflake chain.  Keith unfurled the craft project, releasing a cloud of gold glitter to float glitzy and fabulous to its new home in the bedroom carpet.

Lance bit his lip trying to hold in the manic fit of laughter while he waited for Keith to take it all in.  The thing was an elementary art teacher’s nightmare.  Lance had cut out the little snowflake designs carefully, making a chain with eight individual snowflake cutout links to use as the foundation for his masterpiece.  In the center of each snowflake, he’d glued a different picture of Keith making a comically disgruntled face, culled from all the “stupid couples selfies again, what the hell Lance” he’d forced Keith to take since they’d been dating.  (The hardest part of the whole project had honestly been narrowing down his choices to just eight.)  To take the whole thing further, he’d found eight different pictures of ridiculous seasonal hats and glued them atop all the scowling Keiths in a barbaric act of crafting that felt reminiscent of Frankenstein.  The words “Grumpy Keith Wishes You A Merry Grinch -Mas,” were written one on each snowflake below the abominations.  And then he’d drowned any remaining white space in glitter and sequins.

Keith’s reaction did not disappoint.  His eyebrows climbed higher on his forehead the longer he took the monstrosity in, perhaps overwhelmed by the sheer volume of absurdity he held in his hands.  Finally, he looked up at Lance, utterly bewildered.  “What the fuck, Lance?”

It was a more perfect reaction than he ever could have hoped for.  Giving up the battle with control as a lost cause, Lance howled with laughter, bending double with the force of it and wrapping his hands around his middle.  God, Keith’s  _ face.  _ All the hours he’d spent on this stupid thing were totally worth it for that face.

Seconds later, Keith was joining in, and they both stood there laughing in the middle of Lance’s bedroom like complete idiots until their stomach muscles hurt and tears were streaming down their faces.

Laughter eventually tapering off, Keith pulled Lance into an embrace.  “You are seriously crazy,” he whispered before pressing his lips to Lance’s mouth.

It was difficult to kiss properly when they were both still giggling every now and then, but it was worth the effort to stick with it.  It was all worth the effort.

  
  


**Day 4:**

He knew he shouldn’t be, but Lance had been kind of disappointed with Keith’s reaction to this morning’s gift if he was honest.  Keith had looked at the box of mints, read the note saying  _ You and Me are MINT to Be! _ and quirked a little smile, mumbled, “cool, thanks,” and put them on the nightstand.  And then that had been it.  Not that Lance had been expecting it to be like the last three mornings had; he recognized that he was batting a thousand with the emotional gifts but they wouldn’t all be like that.  He just hadn’t expected a strikeout either.

More than likely he was being stupid and overly sensitive about this.  It was a small, silly gift and Keith wasn’t exactly what you’d call demonstrative or open about his feelings at the best of times.  How exactly was Lance expecting him to react?  Lance flopped back on the bed and grabbed a pillow.  He pressed it to his face and screamed out his frustration.  Look, he was a well adjusted adult, okay?  Ugh.  He needed to get over himself.  Preferably before Keith made it out of the shower and saw him freaking the fuck out.

***

Fresh out of the shower, Keith walked over to the nightstand clad only in a towel, shoved one of the mints in his mouth and then leaned into Lance’s space for a rather heated and minty fresh kiss.

Lance didn’t get it that time, but he couldn’t really be blamed seeing how he was too distracted with where that kiss was leading to think it through.

***

It happened again after breakfast though.  Lance was elbow deep in soapy water and swaying his hips ever so slightly, the beat of some catchy little pop tune he didn’t know the name of stuck in his head.

Keith walked up behind him.  “Lance,” he started, and when Lance turned to see what he wanted, Keith grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him into another kiss, a little softer, but still mint flavored, and still knee-weakeningly filthy.  Then without another word, he stalked right back out the kitchen.

Lance was maybe a little slow on the uptake because he stood there in front of the sink, dazed and  _ seriously  _ confused, the taste of peppermint lingering on his tongue, and he still didn’t get it.  What had all  _ that  _ been about?

***

The third time happened in public, and that’s when Lance made the necessary connections in his brain.

They’d just finished their lunch at a nearby burger joint they both liked when Keith stopped in the middle of the sidewalk between the door and the parking lot.  He pulled the box of mints from his pocket and popped one in his mouth.  Not exactly unusual after meal behavior, except for the way he immediately leaned over and pressed a sweet, chaste kiss to the corner of Lance’s mouth.

Floored, Lance just stood there blinking for far longer than he wanted to admit.  Normally, he couldn’t even get Keith to hold his hand in a public place, even if there was no one else around, dude was straight up allergic to PDA.  It had never bothered Lance before, but he would not deny that he felt a little jolt of electricity in his belly over the idea that Keith had just  _ kissed him  _ in full view of at least three other people that Lance could count.  What the hell.

And then he’d left him standing in the middle of the sidewalk gaping like a fool because he was an asshole.  Or embarrassed.  What the hell?  Lance hurried after him, a creeping suspicion unfurling in his mind.

When they’d climbed inside the car, Lance turned to look at Keith.  “You gonna kiss me every time you have a mint?”

A slight flush spread over the bridge of Keith’s nose, but he smiled over at Lance challengingly.  “Just showing you I agree.  Is it a problem?”  He raised an eyebrow.  He was just  _ daring  _ Lance to give him shit about this; it was a familiar expression.

Warm, fuzzy sensations flared to life in Lance’s gut and he shook his head vigorously.  “Not in the fucking slightest dude.”  He hoped that box of mints lasted  _ forever. _

  
  
  


**Day 5: Monday**

“More mints?” Keith asked, standing near the foot of the bed wearing only his underwear and a cocky grin.

Heat flooded Lance’s face and he shrugged sheepishly.  “Those may or may not have made their way into the tree last night.”  It was weird how saying  _ that _ made his insides twist with embarrassment, but less than an hour ago he’d shamelessly groaned, “c’mon babe, fuck my face,” into the skin over Keith’s hip bone and not thought twice about it.  The urge to pull the covers from his lap up over his head and hide was strong.

Keith’s mouth twitched with suppressed amusement.  “Uh huh.”  It sounded like he wanted to say more than that, but instead he looked back down at the note in his hand, which read,  _ Today is a List Day. (Stop and ask me what the rules for list day are.) _  He looked up again, mischief dancing in his eyes.  “Lance, why does my advent tree come with rules?”

Lance could feel his own barely held back smile tugging at the corners of his lips but he forced it down and pretended to be serious in keeping with the game.  “Because that’s how we roll with the family trees.  Trust me, if my mom sets up a tree for you next year, you’ll thank me for explaining the rules in advance.  Kevin, Justine’s husband, got an earful on his first Christmas with the fam for not following the rules.”

Looking slightly alarmed, Keith nodded.  “Okay, fine.  Explain away.”

Clearing his throat, Lance affected a nasally, lecturing tone.  He was feeling silly and kind of punch-drunk after the fantastic morning-sex, and talking about his family traditions, bringing Keith in as a part of them only made him warmer and giddier.  He wanted to burrow down into his comfortable bed with its sex-wrinkled sheets and this even more comfortable feeling and never come back up again - fuck going to work.  “Multiples of five are list days.  For our trees, the majority of the stuff inside is from our parents, but on list days anyone can put a list into anyone else’s tree.  When you get your list, you have to find that person and go through it with them, stopping after each item and giving them a chance to explain it.”  

Appearing unconcerned, Keith shrugged.  “That’s not so bad.”

Lance winced slightly, knowing what came next.  “That’s only the first part.”  He stopped and rubbed the back of his neck.  “We uh, we don’t have to do this part this year since I sort of sprung this on you, but I’ll at least tell you about it so you know for when my family eventually suckers you into doing this with them.”

In response, Keith gave him the blankest, blandest look.  “Sometimes you say things.  And they make me legitimately terrified of your family.”

A weird, likely inappropriate affection swelled under Lance’s ribcage.  He shrugged.  “That seems fair.”  He could see how such a large, closely-knit family might be overwhelming to someone who’d never experienced that.  His oldest brother’s wife was an only child and she still seemed blown away by certain family events almost seven years after getting hitched to Chris.

Keith looked down, toying with the edge of the paper in his hands.  “Okay, so what’s the other part?”  He sounded kind of nervous for some reason.

This was probably going to be too much for Keith; Lance almost didn’t even want to tell him.  His plan all along had been to gradually ramp up the intimacy between them all month long, but at every turn he kept expecting it to be too much, for Keith to look around and realize how much Lance was asking of him and balk.  He took a deep breath.  “Whoever gets the list is supposed to make a list of the same stuff for the person who made the original list and put it in their stocking for Christmas morning.”

After thinking that over for a few seconds, Keith frowned.  “You don’t have a stocking up yet.”

“I told you we don’t have to do that part.”  Lance flapped his hand in a dismissive gesture.  He was oddly desperate to make this go away.  He’d expected Keith to blow this off, consider it too much to give in his efforts to play along with Lance’s advent thing, but him calmly accepting it might be worse.  

“Hang the fucking stocking, Lance,” Keith growled, clearly irritated.

His mother’s advice from a few days ago resurfaced in Lance’s brain and he pressed the heel of his hands against his eyes.  “Keith, baby, I need you to not make this a competition.”  All the sugar-sweet, cotton-candy soft excitement from earlier had soured, leaving him shaken and a little sick.  Why were they so bad at this?  He had so much trouble knowing where he stood with Keith.  He wanted so much from him - hell, he suspected he wanted  _ everything  _ from him - and he wasn’t sure what he was allowed to ask for.  It made him afraid to ask for anything at all.

Clearly confused, Keith cocked his head to the side.  “What do you mean?”

Like he didn’t know exactly why Lance might think that, but it was cute that he’d at least pretend ignorance for Lance’s sake.  Lance smiled, charmed by the attempt.  “I know you okay, I know that you think everything is a contest - especially with me - and most of the time that’s fine, most of the time I  _ like _ that.  But I don’t want this to be about trying to get one up on each other, not this time.  I’m not sharing my family traditions with you to show you how much better I am at the whole Christmas thing, or to pressure you into doing something for me.”  

Lance shuffled down to the foot of the bed and reached out to catch Keith’s hand in his own, absently stroking the soft skin of his wrist with a thumb..  “I’m doing it because honestly Christmas with my family makes up about fifty percent of my favorite memories and it makes me sad that you don’t have that.  It makes me sad that before now, you didn’t think to  _ want  _ that.  I want to share this with you, no pressure to reciprocate, so that you can see what it’s like and maybe start wanting it a little bit.”  He squeezed Keith’s hand and looked up at him, trying to convey just how serious this was for him.  “But I can’t do that, it ruins it, if you’re spending the whole time thinking you’ve got to do something big for me, or you’re trying to make sure you’re participating in traditions we’ve had our whole lives to perfect.  Let me keep this as simple as showing you how me and my family celebrate the holiday, please?”  There was a part of him that recognized he might be opening up too much, showing Keith where too many of his soft spots were and it could end up hurting him.  But he also knew this had to be said if he was going to keep his sanity until Christmas.

Keith huffed out a laugh, fond and exasperated.  “You idiot.  I know there’s no way I can keep up with your insane family when it comes to holiday stuff.  I swear, you guys are like the fucking Christmas Mafia.  And from the way you talk about her, I think your mom might try to off me if I attempted to one-up you.”  The expression on his face softened and he lifted their joined hands to press a kiss to Lance’s knuckles.  “I’m not trying to do this better than you, I’m just trying to do it  _ with _ you.  Otherwise, what’s the point?”  He leaned down to rest his forehead against Lance’s, painfully tender.  “So.  Hang. The.  Fucking.  Stocking.  Lance.”  Each word was a fierce whisper, a heated puff of breath accompanying the intensity in his voice and his eyes.

Smiling stupidly, Lance nodded, well, more like rolled their foreheads together, but it got the point across.  “Yeah, okay.”  He could feel his eyes stinging, like they wanted to tear up, but he refused to let that happen.  There was a difference between showing Keith enough to hurt him with and showing him enough to utterly destroy him.  He absolutely could not let Keith know how achingly precious those words were to him, how much they filled Lance with a want and a hope for so much more than this fragile thing they’d manage to build.  How happy he was that Keith might be willing to build something more solid with him.

The moment when Keith started feeling awkward about the display of feelings was plainly visible.  The soft affection on his face melted away and he backed up with a slightly unsure smile.  Obviously searching for something else to focus on, he looked back down at the list, reading off the first item.  “ _ Five Things I Pretend to Hate That I Actually Love.  Number One: when you argue with me about stupid things. _ ” He looked up at Lance with a deeply unimpressed look.  “Really?  You think I didn’t know that?”

Still all shivery inside and utterly thrilled with life, Lance just smirked.  “You probably don’t know why though.”  As much as he appreciated having an unguarded moment from Keith, it was nice to also fall back into teasing and taunting, something familiar to ground himself with.

“Because there’s something fundamentally wrong with you?”

Lance rolled his eyes.  “Because it makes us feel more settled.”

“I- what?”  Keith looked like he'd swallowed something wrong.

Blushing, Lance looked down at the sheets pooled around his waist and picked at a loose thread at the hem.  Great, now he’d taken them back into that unmapped territory of complete honesty.  He’d have to be careful to keep this somewhat light, he already felt worn down and tissue-thin; he couldn’t handle any more weighty conversations until he built his defenses back up.  “Like, before when we weren’t anything and even before we were actually dating, we used to kind of fight about real stuff, it used to actually be serious sometimes.  But now, it’s all ridiculous stuff and it’s like how old married couples bicker, and I don’t know it just makes me feel like we’ve gotten somewhere, you know?  And I’m gonna shut up now.”  He didn't dare look up to see what Keith's face was doing right now.  Wow, okay, he was seriously crap at keeping things easy this morning.

“That’s uh, wow.”  Keith sounded a little shell-shocked.  “That’s actually kind of sweet.”

Lance flushed and looked away.  “Thanks,” he mumbled, not having any idea what to add to that.  God, they were both so bad at this.  He was perfectly aware that the two of them were fucking ridiculous; he just didn’t care.  Somehow it felt like they were making it work anyway, and while it was surprising, it was pretty great too.

Apparently Keith had no idea where to go from there either and simply continued on without further comment.  “ _ Number Two:  when you pop the collar on that damned jacket. _  Oh really?”  He smirked at Lance, heat and promise lurking at the edges of the expression.

Tipping his head back, Lance groaned.  “God, it is embarrassing how stupidly hot I find it.  Especially when you have your bandana on your face to ride your bike.”  There had been numerous late night or morning shower masturbatory sessions dedicated to that particular image.

_ Smoldering  _ was the only word that could be used to describe the look Keith gave Lance.  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

A frankly alarming amount of Lance’s blood migrated south at that look, despite Keith pushing him over the edge into orgasm not once, but  _ twice _ this morning.  He swallowed thickly.  “Yeah, okay.”

Keith cleared his throat and went back to the list.  “ _ Number Three:  when you stick up for me at work.” _  He shot Lance an inquisitive look.

Ugh.  Why hadn’t he just made all of these about sex instead of actually trying to share something with his boyfriend?  Lance sighed and raked a hand through his hair.  “So, that one’s a little bit of a reach, because I don’t exactly pretend to  _ hate  _ it, but I always give you shit about it.  And like, I know I tell you that I’ve got it, that I don’t need you to protect me, and that’s true.  I do want to be seen as someone who can stand on their own.  But it is really nice to know sometimes that you’ve got my back.”

“We make a good team.”  Surprisingly, that was all Keith said on the matter, choosing not to give Lance any shit about that.  He smiled softly at Lance before continuing.  “ _ Number Four:  your sarcastic running commentary during movies. _ ”

Lance shrugged.  “It’s cute.  And I like knowing how you think.”  There wasn’t much else to say about it than that.  

“ _ Number Five:  your college track sweater. _ ”  Keith stared at him incredulously.  “You cannot be fucking serious.”

Oh.  He’d forgotten about that one being on the list.  Lance bit his lip and started pulling at the loose thread again. “It’s hideous, but it’s so damn fluffy.”

Unsatisfied with Lance’s explanation, Keith crossed his arms over his chest and prompted, “you’ve refused to be seen in public with me wearing it.”

Feigning casualness, Lance shrugged.  “It’s definitely an ‘at home’ shirt.”

Keith’s lips twisted into a pout.  “I thought this was a list of stuff you really like, why are you still hating on my sweatshirt?”

Lance gave him a pointed look.  The thing looked like it escaped from the wardrobe on a zombie movie and Keith had the nerve to doubt Lance’s opinion?  “It’s got a hole you can fit your entire hand through.”

“So?” Keith questioned defensively.

Not about to let that go, Lance raised a dubious eyebrow at him.  “And a stain that looks like blood that you don’t know the origin of.”

Entirely nonplussed by that, Keith shrugged.  “It probably is blood.”

Lance threw up his hands.  “See that?  That right there didn’t help.”

Keith only shrugged again, altogether unruffled by the whole conversation.  “I like it.”

Lance smiled.  “I know, so do I, because in addition to it being super soft, it’s also somehow oddly cute on you.  Wear it at home.  So I can cuddle you in it.  But when we go out, please don’t wear something that makes you look like a murderer or you’re homeless.”

Keith gave him a questioning look.  “Why do you care?”

That was an easy question to answer; Lance smirked.  “Because I have pretty much the hottest boyfriend on the planet and I feel real smug about it.  I would like to gloat publically as often as possible please.  Don’t take this away from me, Keith.”

Keith rolled his eyes.  “You’re an idiot.”

Lance grinned.  “Your idiot though.”

“Yeah,” Keith agreed, stalking toward the bed with a predatory grin.

  
  
  


**Day 6:  Tuesday**

They jingled aggressively when Keith pulled them out, little bells ringing merrily, and Lance could not hold back the snorting bark of laughter that inspired.

Keith looked down at the tangle of brightly colored hair elastics with something akin to fascinated horror twisting his features.  His lips opened and closed soundlessly a few times like he wanted to say something, but nothing made it out.

To stop his heart from beating would be easier than to stop laughing at this point.  Lance was so proud of today’s gift he could hardly contain himself.  He’d found a bunch of Christmas themed hair ties likely meant for young girls.  They’d been festooned with tinsel and bows and pom poms and plastic shapes - and bells, god the bells were Lance’s favorite.  

Surprise bleeding away, Keith shook his hand slightly, making the bells chime again.  He looked over at Lance with a forlorn expression.  “I feel like asking for an explanation would be a mistake.”

The only effect that had was making Lance laugh so hard he fell off the bed.

***

Shuffling into the kitchen after his shower, lured by the smell of breakfast and the need for his morning dose of both Keith and coffee, Lance caught sight of said boyfriend and stopped dead.  Oh  _ fuck  _ no.  A slow, lazy curl of arousal wrapped itself around the base of his spine.  Shit.  He had absolutely not prepared himself for this; he needed more time.  Desperately.  Because Keith wasn’t supposed to make the stupid things look hot.  In what universe was that fucking fair?  

Steam rose from what appeared to be a skillet full of eggs and Keith stood wielding a spatula in boxers and a white tee, hair pulled back with a bright red rubber band adorned with sparkling green and white pom poms and plastic candy canes.  A few wispy pieces of hair fell loose to curl lovingly around his neck and ears softly kissing all the places Lance now ached to put his mouth.  His heart beat faster, pumping blood to his groin and making his skin tingle and all Lance could think about was fucking  _ ruining _ him.  It was official; Keith was a superhero, and his power was making the absolute stupidest shit sinfully attractive.  Lance didn’t know if he felt cursed or grateful.

“Stop lurking it’s creepy,” Keith called without turning to look, sprinkling some unidentified spice onto the eggs.  His voice was still sleep-rough and slow and it had the effect of making him sound fucked out and sated.

Lance’s feet were moving without conscious input from his brain, and somehow, before he knew what he was doing, he was pressed up against Keith’s back, arms around his waist and one hand creeping beneath his shirt to teasingly caress the soft skin over his ribs.  “Let me be even more creepy then.”  The words were a soft whisper weaving through Keith’s hair, ruffling it at his nape.  Everywhere they pressed together lit up his nerve endings like fireworks and Lance just wanted to rub bodily against him like an overgrown cat.  Or rut against him like a teenager until he came in his pants.  Either one was good.

“Lance-” Keith’s tone carried a note of warning, but he never actually finished the thought, so it sort of lost credibility somewhat.

Tightening his grip, Lance pulled Keith closer.  He pressed light little kisses along the side of Keith’s neck, pausing every now and then to breathe in his scent.  His boyfriend hadn’t showered this morning so he smelled like sweat and a little like sex, dick and thighs still sporting a mix of cum and saliva from the earlier blowjob despite the hasty wipedown.  Lance’s mouth flooded with spit and more of his sanity fled.  Screw breakfast, screw making it to work on time.  Screw anything that wasn’t him taking Keith apart painfully slowly with every last skill he possessed.

A fine tremor rolled through Keith’s body.  “I’m going to burn your eggs.”

Between more kisses that featured a little more lip and tongue, and even the occasional press of teeth, Lance managed to get out, “I’ll still eat them either way.”  Heat was building steadily in his core and his blood pulsed rhythmically - a steady drumbeat that sounded like  _ Keith...Keith...Keith _ in his head; he did not have a single fuck to give about the eggs.  In fact, the fuck manufacturing plant was closed, not a single fuck would ever be produced again.

High and breathy, Keith laughed.  “You say that now.”  Even with its distracted sound, it was still an argument.  He tilted his head to give Lance better access anyway.

Unconcerned, Lance scraped his teeth across the tendon in Keith’s neck and rolled his hips against his ass.  He wasn’t hard yet, barely even a semi, but blood was flowing that direction at an increasing rate and the pressure felt good, so good, sparks twinkling behind his eyelids.  “What did you expect me to do with your hair up?  You know how much that works for me.”  There was something about it, something about his neck being so exposed when it was normally guarded, or how it softened him, or something else Lance would never be consciously aware of, that drove him wild every time.

Hissing out a breath at the sharp bite, Keith reached up and cupped a hand around the back of Lance’s head.  Ever so slightly, he pushed his hips back into Lance, a tease more than anything else.  “You’re the one that bought the rubber bands.  Shouldn’t have bought them if you didn’t want me to use them.”

Sensing victory, Lance pressed his advantage and slid his hands beneath Keith’s shirt entirely, one petting over his stomach and the other drifting high enough to seek out a pebbled nipple and pinch playfully.  “Oh I wanted you to - you’re the one complaining about the eggs.”  His blood was on fire now - lava beneath his skin, liquefying his bones.  Having Keith in his arms, feeling him react to every touch, every whispered word, in such a visceral and tangible way was burning him alive.  And making him feel more aggressive and less patient.  He pinched the nipple harder, nothing that could be described as playful any longer.

The spatula dropped from Keith’s nerveless fingers, clattering to the floor with a dull thud and a brief shower of tiny egg bits.  “Jesus, Lance.”  The hand he had on Lance’s head gripped a handful of hair in a tight fist, yanked hard.

Pain burst bright and clean along Lance’s nerves, getting tangled with arousal somewhere along the way until the sensation shimmered and sparkled, becoming some entirely new feeling that absolutely incinerated the last of his control.  “C’mon babe, lemme fuck you.  Right here, just like this,” he whispered so low and husky it was practically a growl, directly into Keith’s ear.  He rolled his hips again, pressing his now-full cock into the crack of Keith’s ass to emphasize his request.

“ _ Fuck, _ ” Keith bit out.  A thready, breathless moan followed and then he was sagging against Lance, capitulating completely.  “Yeah, okay.”

***

The eggs burned.

Lance ate them anyway, smug smile firmly in place.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **DON'T SKIP THIS NOTE, PLEASE:** The Day 7 part of this chapter was intended to be more visual in nature, with pictures of the actual notes exchanged between Keith and Lance interspersed between the prose, since it's not actually new notes each time but changes to the original version. I tried embedding the images here on AO3, but the site keeps reformatting the pictures and they are no longer readable here. I have tried multiple ways of formatting a just text post in a way you could follow it and make some sense of it, but it just isn't happening. So, Day 7 will need to be viewed [here on tumblr](http://teaandspacekittens.tumblr.com/post/154831073249/25-days-til-hes-mine-day-7). I don't think there are any vital plot points in this one, so it _could_ be skipped if you wanted. I did go ahead and just post the songs, for anyone who skips it and at least wants to know what was on the list.
> 
> Additionally, the amazing [WynterArlene](http://archiveofourown.org/users/WynterArlene) was a lifesaver and made a playlist for all the songs featured in this installment. You can find that [HERE](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLa9obrshjM49N5gCmaUFBTACyFOQDYjF2&feature=em-share_playlist_user) but please keep in mind this is Lance we're talking about so many of these songs are VERY nsfw.
> 
> Aaaand, one more thing. I hate to post an update and announce a hiatus at the same time, but... that's what I'm doing? I'm just not feeling very inspired to work on this right now, and so I'm not going to force it. I'm not discontinuing it, just working on other stuff for a while. Sorry.

**Day 7**

 

If you didn't read the notes, go back and do that please! ;)

 

_The Keith and Lance Playlist ;)_

 

_1\.  I'm too sexy - Right Said Fred_

_2\.  Lady Marmalade - Labelle_

_3\.  My Neck, My Back - Elle King_

_4\.  Aesthetics of Hate - Machine Head_

_5\.  What Makes You Beautiful - One Direction_

_6\.  A Whole New World (Aladdin) - Brad Kane and Lea Salonga_

_7\.  You Know What They Do to Guys Like Us in Prison - My Chemical Romance_

_8\. Can't Fight This Feeling - REO Speedwagon_

_9\.  The Very Thought of You - Red Garland_

_10\.  I'll Make Love to You - Boyz II Men_

_11\.  Stellar - Incubus_

_12\.  Piano Concert No. 2, Third Movement - Rachmaninoff_

_13\.  You and Me - Lifehouse_

 

_Bonus:_

 

_Candy Shop - 50 Cent_

_Closer - Nine Inch Nails_

_Work It - Missy Elliot_

_Feel Like Makin' Love - Bad Company_

 

 

**Day 8:**

 

Lance dragged himself out of bed with a feeling of dread pooling in his stomach.  He scrubbed a hand through his wild nest of hair as a yawn split his face.  Keith had already gone to work, left early to prepare for a presentation first thing in the morning, and Lance was supposed to be meeting Hunk for drinks after work this evening.  Keith had frowned a little at Lance’s suggestion that he open his advent gift today without Lance, but he’d agreed it was probably the only way to do it unless he waited until tomorrow - an option neither of them had considered seriously.

 

Shuffling into the bathroom, idly scratching at his stomach, Lance could admit to himself he’d only suggested it because he was a fucking coward.  What Keith opened today seemed silly on the surface, but there was some real feelings buried in there and Lance was honestly glad he wasn’t there to see Keith’s face when he read what Lance had left for him.  Except, now he didn’t know what to expect, and the uncertainty was eating him alive.

 

He hurried through his shower and other morning ablutions, words flitting through his brain.  For some godforsaken reason he’d thought it would be cute to write silly little holiday haikus for one of the days.  And it had been a cute idea - right up until the poems had taken a hard right turn into the realm of Serious Emotions TM .  There were four of them in total and the words for each were seared into his brain, unforgettable at this point.

 

The first, titled  _ Keith _ wasn’t too bad.  It had stayed pretty close to Lance’s goal of being silly but well-intentioned.  He’d really only wanted to make Keith smile with it.

 

_ Sexy, adorable _

_ Unexpected best friend _

_ Wrong about aliens _

 

Lance didn’t think there was much in those three lines that would give his boyfriend pause.  The second,  _ Christmas _ was much the same.  The only underlying truth it was likely to expose was that Lance really had no skill for writing haikus - the syllables/sound units thing honestly confused the shit out of him.  So yeah, the poem was poorly executed, but heartfelt and cheesy - pretty much everything Lance aspired to be on a daily basis.

 

_ Lights, tree, warm cookies _

_ Together with my family _

_ Everything I enjoy _

 

Selecting a suit from his closet at random, Lance dressed with just as little focus as he’d spared for showering.  He couldn’t let go of his own irritation long enough to stop second guessing himself.  Because if the first two poems had been exactly what he was shooting for, that all fell apart with the third,  _ Tradition. _

 

_ Old and comfortable _

_ There is still room for one more _

_ How we show we care _

 

That was so much more revealing than Lance had planned to be, gave away so much more than he really felt comfortable with at this point.  But instead of fixing it with the last haiku, he’d just fucking doubled down and practically served Keith his heart on a platter when he’d penned the last poem,  _ Family. _

 

_ None of your own now _

_ Will share mine with you instead _

_ Love making you smile _

 

What in the fuck had he been thinking.  And now he hadn’t been around to see how Keith reacted to those words, to what essentially amounted to a confession of much deeper feelings than anything they’d ever talked about.  People said it all the time, often he even agreed, but right now, Lance felt it on a bone deep level - he was a fucking idiot.

 

He stumbled into the kitchen seeking coffee.  If he was going to keep contemplating his complete and irredeemable stupidity, he’d damn well do it when he was properly caffeinated.  However, he was immediately distracted from that pure and noble goal by a large yellow square stuck to the microwave.  Stomach turning over in anxiety, he pulled the note off and read:

 

_ Princess, _

 

_ There’s eggs inside; just need to be reheated.  Hopefully you didn’t wake up too late to eat them.  See you at work. _

 

_ -Keith _

 

_ P.S.  These things are harder to fucking write than they look, but here goes nothing. _

 

_ Lance _

 

_ Insane but perfect _

_ Gives me what no one else will _

_ What no one else can _

 

_ Luck _

 

_ All are born and die _

_ Only chance in between _

_ Stars align; found you _

 

Oh.

 

Lance’s hands were trembling and his eyes were stinging by the time he finished.   _ Oh hell. _  It looked like Lance wasn’t going to have to tone down anything - he was going to have to up his game.  Because against all odds, his boyfriend was a motherfucking  _ romantic bastard. _

 

**Bonus:  Set in Day -1**

 

“How goes the baking?”  

Hunk’s voice was slightly tinny on speakerphone, but it was still warm and comforting and so _Hunk_ that Lance almost couldn’t breathe with how much he needed to hear it right now.  He groaned loudly and rested his head on the top of his kitchen counter to whine directly into the microphone.  He manfully resisted the urge to bang it against the hard surface.  “Why on Earth did I ever think this was a thing I could do?”

Used to Lance’s drama after this many years, Hunk just laughed low and easy. “Because it is?  I mean your mom gave you the recipe and everything; it’s not even like you have to do this from memory.’

Lance pouted.  He didn’t bother to lift his head off the counter.  “I’ve already had a small kitchen fire,” he stated flatly.

An unidentifiable crashing noise sounded on the other end of the line.  “What! Lance, are you okay?  Is everything still operational?  Do you need to come over and use my kitchen?”  The questions were rapid-fire and alarmed.

Lance felt slightly guilty for worrying his best friend, but in all honesty he was worried too.  He laughed humorlessly.  “Nah, big guy.  I’m good here.”

“Okay, if you say so.”  Hunk sounded way more dubious than Lance thought was warranted.  “Did you fuck your kitchen up?  You know you don’t get the security deposit back if you light the place on fire.”

Lance made some pitiful noise that was the bastard lovechild of a whine and sigh.  "Look it doesn’t matter. You could light _me_ on fire at this point and I’d probably thank you for it.“  He was so far in over his head with all of this that death by immolation seemed like the only way out.

Hunk sucked in a breath, the sound staticy over the connection.  “Oh no. Things are going that bad?”

Lance finally lifted his head just to bury one flour-covered hand in the nest of his hair and rake it through strands glued together with who fucking knew what at this point.  “Hunk, at this point I’ve lit my kitchen on fire, I have chocolate literally everywhere, I still have seven days i haven’t thought of gifts for, my kitchen table looks like it’s either doubling as a gay nightclub or a kindergarten classroom with all the glitter it’s sporting, I had to _call my mom_ ,”  He squeezed his eyes shut.  “And-”  He stopped to take a deep breath.  “And I don’t even know if he wants any of this.”  He thought that just about summed up the swirling morass of defeat and anxiety knotting his insides up.

“Do you?” Hunk wasted no time in firing back.

Confused, Lance’s nose wrinkled.  “What?”

“Do _you_?  Want this, want to do this for him?”

Lance laughed.  “Yeah man, I thought that was well established.”  He was resigned to his fate at this point, resigned to the fact that he was helpless to resist doing anything Keith would let him get away with just on the off chance that it might make him happy.  

“Then it kind of doesn’t matter does it?  You won’t know if he wants it until you do something and he reacts.  But _you_ want to do things like this _for him_ and so, right now, in this moment, it doesn’t matter how he reacts.  It makes you happy to be crazy and ridiculous and go all out for the people you care about, so do it!  Forget about what Keith might think and let yourself find the joy in going crazy for your boyfriend.”  The smile he was wearing was audible in his voice.

Grateful beyond what any words could convey for this huge man with the even bigger heart, Lance squeezed his eyes shut again and sucked in a shuddering breath.  “I literally have no idea how I would survive without you, Hunk,” he said around the lump in his throat.

Like a good bro, Hunk stoically ignored the little hitch in Lance’s voice, breezing right past it.  “I know.  I’ll be there in about thirty by the way; I’m gonna stop at the liquor store for that vanilla whiskey you like.”

Lance jolted upright.  “Wait, no.  Man, you don’t have to do that,” he was quick to assure.  He hadn’t called Hunk to guilt him into coming over.  He knew he’d be knee-deep in work; he shouldn’t have to bail Lance out.  This was a mess of Lance’s own making and he should damn well be the one to dig himself out of it.

“Lance, you’ve already lit your kitchen on fire once.  I’ll be there in thirty.”  Hunk’s tone brooked no argument.

Lance smiled stupidly at his phone.  “Yeah, okay.  Thanks man.”  God, how was it possible for people as genuinely good as Hunk to exist?  Lance was so lucky to have found him.

“Anytime.”  There was a brief pause and some faint rustling noises, then Hunk went on.  “Also, you should decide which is less dangerous for us to do after we’ve been drinking for a while - the baking or the gift brainstorming - because one of them is going to get a little precarious and I’m not deciding if your apartment or your relationship holds more value.”

Ridiculous grin stretching over his features, Lance shrugged.  “Kitchen’s already been on fire once today.  What’s a little more accidental arson among friends?”  And there was no way in hell Lance was putting anything in that fucking tree for Keith after he’d been drinking.  It would either be nothing but dic pics or shitty love poems - it could go either way for Lance when he got drunk.  

“Copy that,” Hunk answered, clearly reading all the unspoken things in Lance’s answer, and then disconnected the call.

Lance surveyed his kitchen again and his shoulders sagged.  This was a mess that even Hunk and copious amounts of alcohol might not even be able to save.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please consider reccing to a friend. I’m still new and trying to get my work in front of people, so I’d appreciate it tremendously. <3


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